Kirk/Spock Advent Calendar 2006

Christmas Letters

by Starshadow; rated G
Beta-read by Frank, Kev, Pat and Fiona
FB: starshadow @ starshadow.net
Disclaimer: Paramount doesn't own Christmas, but they own "My Boys". No defrauding of their copyrights nor profit being made. Vulcan words (some) courtesy of Vulcan Language Institute. Don't be lazy, look them up.
Summary: Jim decides the best Christmas gift to exchange is letters to each other. Spock goes along with it. For the 2006 Advent Calendar.
Archive: ASC, ASCEML and the like.

I suppose you're going to think me silly to write this when you're in the other room--but it's the first Christmas since our marriage, and while I've never been religious, Christmas has always meant family to me. Now you're my family, and I want to convey to you how much that means.

I think of the vow I read in that book of pre-reform Vulcan lore you gave me for my birthday, and how more deeply it speaks to the passion of the soul than any human poetry. I'm not much of a poet, and somehow even Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese are just a little flowery for my tastes, but it's true. I do "love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach..." and so much more.

I remember how you looked when I first saw you, Spock--I was terrified. I know I didn't show it. You already had a reputation for excellence and I just hoped I could live up to the "boy wonder" reputation I knew they were laying on me. When you accepted my friendship and offered your own, I thought that was all I could get, and I cherished it. I was already in love with you, Spock, but I couldn't let anyone see. I didn't have a clue how you'd take it, but I was sure you'd be repulsed. I couldn't risk damaging what we already had.

Then the miracle happened: you let me in your bed. I wasn't sure of your heart until that awful day when I found out you were betrothed to someone else. You were hurting so much that day, Spock, I could see it. Slave to your Vulcan biology you said--and I knew it wasn't what you wanted, but it was what had to be. And I knew I would do anything for you, even give you up forever if I had to.

Bones saved us, pulled our asses from the fire, and then I learned the truth--we both loved each other. Every day I pray to deities I don't even believe in that I will always be worthy of your love and regard.

You asked me what I want for Christmas--I know it's a trite answer, but I have everything I could want. I have you. I have Enterprise. That's all I need or want. I can't imagine a better Christmas present than having you, Spock, your brilliant mind, your beautiful body, the whole package. You are the most amazing person. I'm so very lucky to have you.

I guess there is one thing--teach me what I need to know to keep you happy. That's all. As long as we can have each other, that's enough for a lifetime.

This is not my first Christmas, but my experiences with this most human of holidays has been decidedly mixed.

When I was four years old, my mother took me to meet my cousins and aunt and uncle in Minnesota, on Earth. I was bundled up in warm clothing and at first my cousins saw no difference between us. I attempted to play, and even found running in the snow enjoyable. They treated me well that first visit, perhaps because I was much younger than they and they did not feel threatened.

My aunt was another matter. While my uncle by marriage spoke to me intelligently, my aunt's tone was extremely patronizing. I had just learned not to use infant speech, and while Federation Standard was my second language, I was advanced enough to converse in it. She spoke to me as if I were an imbecile. I answered politely as I had been taught, standing straight with my hands behind my back, only to find this was considered insolence.

I could not understand the purpose of the decorated tree. It made no logical sense to me. My mother explained the symbolism, but I only wondered why they did not decorate a tree outside, perhaps with real food for the wild animals? On Vulcan, we seldom interfere with wildlife, but when we have by necessity impacted them, we sometimes feed them until a balance is reached.

My aunt thought I was entirely too serious, giving me gifts both useless and inappropriate, and then trying to convince me that a mythical being had brought them. My mother claimed this was normal for human families. I did not understand the logic of lying to children, and still do not. Yet for the sake of politeness I thanked my aunt, but I had no interest in the toys.

Before we left, my mother and I visited a children's hospital and I gave the toys to those children. We did not tell my aunt.

In subsequent years I visited my maternal grandmother who was much more accepting of me as a Vulcan, and who did not treat me differently because I was intelligent. She gave me gifts that even my father approved: computer components and books on science, as well as passing on the books my mother had enjoyed. These my father did not forbid until two years later.

When I came to Enterprise the crew attempted to persuade me to join the ship's parties for this holiday. I attempted to attend at first, but did not particularly enjoy it. Soon my crewmates stopped asking, I brought my ka'athyra and played for them, then I would return to my quarters and meditate. I found it a more logical activity.

You never ceased trying to include me and have also never expected me to respond as a human--I believe that was the second thing that attracted me to you. You accept me as I am: Vulcan. I cannot escape your warmth; I do not wish to. I was and am a moth to your flame.

Last year at this time I did not know we would always be together. Last year my enjoyment of your evident enjoyment of the holiday was tinged bittersweet--I was betrothed to T'Pring and did not know how long you and I had remaining together. I was certain you would reject me once you learned that of which I could not speak. This year I have submitted papers to xenobiological science journals about pon farr and its impact on Vulcan society and culture. I would not have anyone go through that which I did. In a few years there will be no shame attached to this naturally occurring biological function--another gift you have given me, Jim.

I do not need the trappings of this season, after all the holiday itself is alien to my culture. But you enjoy it, and I enjoy your happiness. Not logical, perhaps, but it is so. To deny it would be a denial of c'thia.

Jim, you have already given me a Christmas miracle: your love and our bonding. I need no other.